Loopy, Lonely and Lost

Posts Tagged ‘achievement

  • Got out of bed, despite only having slept for about an hour.
  • Showered.
  • Went to my seminar, in which I had to do a small part of a presentation.
  • Went to my volunteering meeting.

It’s not much, I know. I went to one seminar, but missed the other. And in the one I did go to, I spent a rather embarrassing amount of it either gazing into the distance, or seeing other members of the group talking and immediately thinking, “THEY’RE TALKING ABOUT ME”, and wondering whether it would be more productive to confront them or run out of the room weeping. I did neither. I just felt very uncomfortable and hurt and I left as soon as the seminar ended so that I could get away from ‘those nasty people’.

I can’t help but feel that what I’ve managed today is far too little, far too late, but the fact remains that it’s been easily a fortnight since I’ve been able to do anything.

I hope that this change is a sign that things are going to get easier.

For the first time this term, I’ve been writing things I’m going to do in my diary, as if there’s a decent chance that I’ll be a) alive and b) capable of actually doing things.

I considered, again, making a counselling appointment. Another failure on that account. Because a) if things are getting easier, then I’m not depressed, so I don’t need help, and b) there’s a part of my brain that’s screaming “CANCEL!” before I’ve even made the call. I know that the correct response is a) Laura, you are a deluded imbecile if you think that, even if things are getting better, they won’t get worse again in the forseeable future, and perhaps it’s better to get help when you are actually capable of speech and movement, rather than when you are once again utterly paralysed by depression, and b) “SHUT UP!”. But ‘knowing the correct response’ isn’t quite the same thing as ‘immediately extinguishing all worry and doubt’.

Maybe I’ll call next week. Maybe I’m a stuck record. Maybe I’m never going to actually listen to the sensible part of my brain. Being sensible, it is of course very quiet; a problem not faced by the screaming, irrational part of me.

I don’t even know that I’m going to stop being depressed. I mean, yes, okay, I managed to do some of the things that your average human manages on a daily basis. But that’s hardly a shining indicator of a future – however short – without depression, is it?

That said, I do feel a bit more…normal. I mean, with regards to the things I listed above, I could – and should, if I wanted to be accurate – have included “had a little weep” in between each of them. It’s not like things are good.

But I’ve been sarcastic. I’ve been scathing and cynical. I’ve been ranting, a little, to a friend online. I feel a bit more like myself.

In different, but related, news, I continue to be completely and utterly exhausted. I napped, earlier, for about half an hour, and I when I woke up, naturally – I hadn’t set an alarm or anything – I felt like I’d been awake for about a week. I’m pretty woolly-headed, my vision keeps blurring, my legs feel weird and tingly, and I keep almost falling over because I seem to have forgotten what vertical is. This is of course a worry, but I genuinely don’t know what to do about it.

I was at work today.

I have to say, I’ve really been enjoying it. I have various activities, etc. to run, but most of the time my plan for any day I’m working is:

  1. Talk to strangers
  2. Be enthusiastic

And that’s really no hardship. Read the rest of this entry »


Hello

My name is Laura. I was once told that I have cyclothymia. This blog is mostly where I write about living as a person with extremes and instability of mood, and the history of a life that led to the development of those symptoms.

I complain a lot, I'm very repetitive, unreliable, and I tend to contradict myself.

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 98 other followers

Archives

This blog has been visited

  • 81,746 times.
February 2020
M T W T F S S
« Jan    
 12
3456789
10111213141516
17181920212223
242526272829